The pillar of silver light pierced the sky like a wound.
Lillian stared at it, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. The light was immense, reaching from the palace to the clouds, pulsing with an ancient, terrible rhythm. It reminded her of a heartbeat. A heartbeat that belonged to something vast and hungry.
"We need to move," Matteo said, struggling to his feet. "That's the ritual. She's already started it."
Lillian grabbed his arm, steadying him. "You can barely stand. You need rest."
"I need to stop a dragon from bringing back her entire army." He grinned weakly. "Rest can wait."
She wanted to argue. Wanted to shake him until he understood that he was killing himself. But she looked at the pillar of light, and she knew he was right. There was no time. There was never any time.
"Fine," she said, slinging his arm over her shoulder. "But we're not running. We're walking. And if you collapse, I'm leaving you here."
"No, you won't." He leaned heavily on her, his breath warm against her ear. "You like me too much."
"I tolerate you. There's a difference."
"Tolerance is the first step to love." He laughed, then winced. "Or maybe that's just the blood loss talking."
They made their way through the forest, following the distant glow of the pillar. The trees were thinning, giving way to farmland and scattered houses. In the distance, the city lay in chaos—fires burned, smoke rose, and the sound of screaming drifted on the wind.
"Where do we go?" Lillian asked. "The palace is compromised. The Council is useless. And the Keeper is dead."
Matteo was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, "She's not dead."
Lillian stopped walking. "What?"
"The real Keeper. She's not dead." He pulled out the silver medallion from his coat. "This was hers. But it's not just a key. It's a compass. It points to her location. And it's been pointing north for a hundred years."
She stared at him. "But Lujayn said she killed her. She said she took her place."
"Lujayn lies." Matteo's voice was hard. "She's been lying for a century. About everything. The war, the betrayal, the Keeper. She wants us to believe that there's no hope. That we're alone."
"And we're not?"
He held up the medallion. "The Keeper is alive. And if we find her, she can tell us how to stop Lujayn. For real this time."
Lillian felt a spark of hope, small and fragile. "Where is she? Where's the medallion pointing?"
Matteo studied the medallion, his brow furrowed. "North. The Forbidden Mountains. Just like I said before."
"But we were already going there. That was the plan."
"That was before we knew Lujayn was the killer. Before we knew she was Aldric. Before she showed her hand." He looked at her, his silver eyes urgent. "The plan hasn't changed. We still go to the Forbidden Mountains. We still find the Keeper. We just need to get there faster."
"How fast?"
He pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment from his coat. "I may have... borrowed a map. From the Council archives. Of the secret tunnels that run beneath the city."
"You stole from the Council again."
"I always steal from the Council. It's a lifestyle." He grinned. "The tunnels connect to the northern roads. They'll cut our travel time in half."
Lillian stared at him. "You had this the whole time? And you didn't tell me?"
"I wanted to make sure it was real. And I didn't want to get your hopes up." His grin softened. "I know how much you hate false hope."
She wanted to yell at him. Wanted to call him reckless and irresponsible and infuriating. But instead, she just shook her head and started walking toward the city.
"Lead the way, partner."
The tunnels were dark and damp and smelled like old secrets.
Lillian followed Matteo through the narrow passages, her hand trailing along the rough stone walls. The only light came from a small orb of blue magic that floated above Matteo's palm, casting long shadows across the ancient brick.
"How far do these go?" she asked, her voice echoing.
"All the way to the northern pass. About a day's journey." He paused, checking the map. "Maybe less if we move fast."
"And the Keeper? She's really alive?"
"She's alive." He glanced back at her. "I know it. The medallion points north. It always has. And it's been getting warmer since we left the city."
"Warmer?"
"It reacts to her presence. The closer we get, the warmer it becomes." He pulled out the medallion and held it up. "Feel."
She reached out and touched the silver metal. It was warm, almost hot, pulsing with a faint, steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat.
"She's alive," she breathed.
"Very much alive." He pocketed the medallion. "And she's been waiting for us. For a hundred years."
Lillian felt a chill run down her spine. "How do you know she's waiting for us?"
"Because she's the Keeper. And the Keeper always knows when the reckoning is coming." His voice was quiet, serious. "She knew Lujayn would return. She knew the descendants would be hunted. And she knew that someone would come looking for answers."
"And you believe that? You believe in fate?"
"I believe in patterns." He grinned. "And right now, the pattern is leading us north. Toward the Keeper. Toward the truth."
She was quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then, softly, "What happens when we find her? What's the plan?"
Matteo stopped walking. He turned to face her, his silver eyes gleaming in the blue light.
"The plan is simple. We find the Keeper. We learn how to stop Lujayn. We stop her." He paused. "And then we figure out the rest."
"The rest?"
"The aftermath. The rebuilding. The peace." He reached out and touched her arm, his fingers warm against her skin. "That's the part I'm not good at. But maybe... maybe we can figure it out together."
Lillian stared at him, her heart pounding. "Matteo—"
A rumble shook the tunnel, sending dust raining down from the ceiling. Lillian stumbled, grabbing Matteo for support. The blue orb flickered, then steadied.
"What was that?" she demanded.
Matteo's face was pale. "The ritual. It's getting stronger. She's pulling power from the descendants." He grabbed her hand and started running. "We need to move. Now."
They sprinted through the tunnels, the blue orb bobbing ahead of them. The ground shook again, more violently this time. Stones fell from the ceiling, crashing around them. Lillian dodged a falling chunk of brick, her heart in her throat.
"She's going to bring down the tunnels!" she shouted.
"Then we run faster!" Matteo pulled her around a corner, and suddenly they were in a larger chamber. The ceiling arched overhead, covered in ancient carvings. Symbols. Words. A language she didn't recognize.
"Wait," she said, skidding to a halt. "Look at this."
Matteo stopped, his eyes scanning the carvings. His face went pale. "These are dragon runes. Ancient dragon runes. They're telling a story."
"What story?"
He traced a finger along the carvings, his lips moving silently. Then, slowly, "The story of the war. The truth." He looked at her, his silver eyes wide. "Lujayn wasn't just a general. She was the queen. The leader of the Dragon Court. And she wasn't betrayed. She sold out her own people."
Lillian stared at him. "What?"
"The alliance didn't defeat the dragons. Lujayn made a deal. She gave up her own kind in exchange for power. For immortality." His voice was shaking. "She's been alive for a thousand years. She's been manipulating everything from the shadows. The war, the peace, the Council. All of it."
Lillian felt sick. "Then why is she killing the descendants? If she made the deal, why seek revenge?"
"Because the deal didn't work. The alliance double-crossed her. They took her power and left her weak. She's been waiting ever since. Waiting for the right moment to reclaim what she lost." He pointed to the carvings. "The ritual isn't about revenge. It's about power. She's using the souls of the descendants to fuel a spell that will make her immortal again."
"Immortal?"
"Unkillable. Unstoppable." His voice dropped. "If she completes the ritual, nothing in this world will be able to stop her."
Lillian felt the floor tilt beneath her. "Then we have to stop her. Before she finishes."
"We will." He grabbed her hand. "But first, we need to find the Keeper. She's the only one who knows how to break the spell."
They ran again, through the tunnels, through the darkness, toward the distant light of the northern pass. The ground shook, the walls trembled, but they didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
They emerged from the tunnels just as the sun was rising, casting pale light across the snow-capped peaks of the Forbidden Mountains. The air was cold, thin, biting at Lillian's skin. But she didn't care. She could see it. A small cabin, nestled in the shadow of the mountain. Smoke rose from its chimney. A light burned in its window.
"She's there," Matteo breathed. "The Keeper. She's there."
They stumbled toward the cabin, their legs burning, their lungs aching. Lillian reached the door first and pounded on it with her fist.
"Open up! We need help!"
The door creaked open, revealing a woman. She was ancient, her face lined with centuries of sorrow, her hair white as snow. But her eyes were sharp, clear, and when she looked at Lillian, she smiled.
"I've been expecting you," she said, her voice like wind through leaves. "Come in. We don't have much time."
Lillian stepped inside, Matteo close behind her. The cabin was small, cluttered with books and scrolls and ancient artifacts. But in the center of the room, on a wooden table, sat a single object.
A silver-white scale. Exactly like the hair Lillian had been carrying.
The Keeper followed her gaze. "Yes," she said softly. "That's what you think it is. The scale of a silver dragon. The scale of Lujayn."
Lillian looked at her. "You know what she's doing. You know about the ritual."
"I know everything." The Keeper's eyes burned with ancient fire. "I was there when Lujayn made her deal. I was there when she betrayed her own kind. And I've been waiting, for a hundred years, for someone to come and end this."
Matteo stepped forward. "How do we stop her?"
The Keeper picked up the scale, holding it to the light. "The ritual requires nine souls. Nine descendants of the Dragon War victors. She's already taken three. She'll take three more before she's done."
"Six more?" Lillian's voice cracked. "We can't stop six more murders."
"You can." The Keeper turned to face her. "Because she's not killing them in secret anymore. She's making a public spectacle. She wants the world to see. She wants everyone to know the truth."
"The truth about what?"
The Keeper smiled, cold and sharp. "That the dragons are back. And they're hungry."
The cabin shook.
The silver scale on the table glowed with an intense, blinding light.
Lillian stumbled backward, shielding her eyes.
"What's happening?" Matteo shouted.
The Keeper's face was pale, her ancient eyes wide with dread. "She's found us. Lujayn knows we're here."
The cabin door exploded inward, and standing in the doorway, wreathed in silver fire, was a figure Lillian recognized. Not Lujayn. Someone else. Someone she had seen die. Lady Mira Vex. The merchant's wife. But her eyes were wrong. Empty. Burning with silver light.
"She's not dead," Lillian breathed.
"She's—" The Keeper finished the sentence, her voice grim. "She's a vessel. Lujayn isn't just killing the descendants. She's taking their bodies. Using them as puppets. And now she's come for us."
Lady Mira stepped forward, her voice filled with pure rage. "You can't run from me, Keeper. You can't hide from the reckoning."
Matteo grabbed Lillian's hand, his magic crackling. "We need to leave. Now."
The Keeper shook her head slowly. "There's no leaving. Not anymore."
She stepped forward, placing herself between Lillian and the vessel. "You want me, Lujayn? Come and take me."
The vessel lunged.